


Flash

by eledhwenlin



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer's a hand model and during one of his shoots he meets pop star Brendon Urie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pennyplainknits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennyplainknits/gifts).



> I'm grateful to the lovely [](http://lalejandra.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**lalejandra**](http://lalejandra.dreamwidth.org/) for the beta. The story is dedicated to [](http://pennyplainknits.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://pennyplainknits.dreamwidth.org/)**pennyplainknits** because she could use a pick-me-up.

Spencer's just come home when his cell phone rings. He almost doesn't answer—it's been a fucking long day, a fucking long week, and Spencer's starting to question why he became an accountant. He's already having nightmares about giant spreadsheets hunting him down dark alleys and formulas threatening him with minus signs as swords and big empty cells poised to jump on Spencer and swallow him down.

He just checks the caller ID in case it's his mom, because she worries needlessly when Spencer doesn't pick up his phone at 6 p.m. It's not his mom. It's William, which means he might have a job for Spencer, and that sounds fan-fucking-tastic.

As soon as Spencer's picked up, William says, "I need your lovely thin wrists."

Spencer grins. "What is it this time?"

"Watch ad," William says. "It's only a few hours, one afternoon tops. Pays the usual bit."

"Sounds okay," Spencer says. "When?"

"This Saturday."

Spencer blinks. Normally he gets booked weeks in advance, not two days before the shoot. "Someone drop out?"

"Mikey," William says.

"Why?"

"Ask him yourself," William says. "I just want to know if you're available."

Spencer's grumpy. His knee-jerk reaction is to tell William no, just because William's being an ass. Spencer could be busy, could have a date with a gorgeous man to spend all weekend in bed. But he also knows he's being grumpy and he knows how it is to be on a tight schedule and then have someone call in sick (his least favourite co-worker miraculously seems to always get sick when they're at their busiest, when he's expected to do actual work, and then Spencer has to do the work of two people), and have all your carefully constructed plans come crashing down while you have to put in more and more overtime just so you can make your deadlines. It helps that Spencer loves working for William. It's one of the few times when he doesn't feel insecure.

"I can take this job," Spencer says. "What are the details?"

"You're a fucking godsend," William says. "I'll send you an e-mail."

"Sure," Spencer says.

"There's also this other job," William adds.

"Jeans?" Spencer asks.

"Not exclusively."

Spencer stills. "Not exclusively as in there'll be also other types of pants or as...?"

"Full body pics," William says. "You don't even need to shave."

"No," Spencer says.

"They pay really well—"

"No, William." Spencer rubs the bridge of his nose. "You know I don't do full body pics."

"And I told you that it was stupid," William says. "Come on, just try it, it'll be fun."

Spencer frowns at his fridge. "It won't be," he says slowly. Spencer already feels weird doing the pants commercials. He's met Gabe, one of the "real" models, and Spencer knows how Gabe looks, has mapped his body with eyes and hands and his mouth, and Spencer knows that he's no fucking match for Gabe. He'd just feel stupid and small and ugly next to Gabe with his long legs and his candescent smile and the way Gabe just knows how to hold himself.

"If you never try it, Spencer, don't knock it."

Spencer snorts. "I'll do the watch ad," he says. "Talk to you later."

William sighs, put out. "If you want to have it your way. Just don't think I'll give up."

"I'm stubborn, not stupid," Spencer says.

William's laughing as he hangs up.

~~~***~~~

The remaining two days of the week pass incredibly fast, which is also due to the fact that Spencer's so fucking busy he doesn't know where his head is. He reminds himself to use his hand cream, tries not to get any paper cuts (unsuccessful, but at least it's not a big one) and just generally tries not to maim his hands.

Thankfully, his shoots as a hand model are easy. The photographer just directs Spencer to hold his arm this way and that way, makes a few pictures, and Spencer's usually out of there in a matter of a couple of hours.

This shoot, however, turns out a bit differently. "We will shoot outside," Dean, the photographer, announces. He sounds a bit haughty, but, then, many photographers do. It's part of the trade, Spencer thinks. As long as they know what they're doing, Spencer doesn't mind.

Half an hour later, Spencer does mind. A lot. It's fucking 3 in the afternoon in L.A. and it's hot and the sun is shining, and Spencer's just standing around being bored. They managed to shoot two pictures when Dean realised that they were all washed out. And then Dean realised he didn't have the right shutter or whatever and his assistant, a sweet young girl named Charlotte who can't be older than 21, can't find the one he needs.

Spencer feels sorry for Charlotte because Dean's ranting on and on and on while he makes her fetch filters and shutters and whatevers and tries each of them out. Spencer swallows down the question why Dean doesn't already know which configuration to know because it's Dean's job to know.

But until Dean manages to get himself sorted out, Spencer's just standing around. He's not allowed to move too far away because Dean could find the magical configuration any second now, although Spencer's not very convinced of it.

There's another shoot happening close by and Spencer's curious to see who else wants to shoot outside at this time of day and on the fucking employee parking lot. There's a smallish green area at the end of it. Spencer supposes it's meant to be calming—there are a few trees and a park bench and a trashcan just next to it.

Spencer's leaning against the fence a few yards away from the green area, and then he sees Valdez setting up his gear in front of the back entrance. Spencer likes Valdez, although he's never worked with him before. Valdez mostly does celebrity shoots and the only time he's been in William's studio was when this IT girl came out with a fashion collection that was sold in the SEARS catalogue and she modelled a few of her own pieces.

Spencer wonders why Valdez is here today. After the IT girl, William swore that he was never going to get involved in anything similar. He shrugs mentally and looks back at Dean. It still looks like they're going to be stuck here for the better part of the afternoon. A couple of hours, his ass. William owes him a drink. At least.

"Oh," Charlotte says suddenly. "Isn't that Brendon Urie?"

Spencer looks back at Valdez and true enough, there's Brendon Urie, laughing and jiggling in place. Spencer knows it's him because he's seen a million pics of him whenever he visits his family, and Jackie and Crystal have forced him to sit through the live concert DVD a dozen times, so Spencer even knows most of Urie's songs. Spencer has to admit that Urie has a nice voice, although his lyrics are kind of cheesy. But his sisters love Urie, play him all the time, so Spencer's grown kind of fond of him.

Another glance at Dean tells Spencer that he's not likely to be called in for action soon, so Spencer subtly shifts against the fence and looks at Urie and Valdez. They seem to be entirely at ease with each other. This always seems to happen with Valdez—it's like he's such a good guy that people can't help yourself but feel relaxed with him, even when he's pointing his camera at them.

Not that Urie seems to be bothered by any camera, as far as Spencer can tell. Urie seems to love the camera. Spencer envies him. He can't imagine being so carefree, to not worry what the camera will catch.

Valdez has Urie lean against the red brick wall. Urie lets his head drop back against the wall, his eyes closed and smiling. He's gorgeous, Spencer thinks and immediately squashes the thought. But he doesn't look away. Charlotte's now rubbing at her eyes, frantically trying to find something in the debris of photography paraphernalia, and Spencer wonders if he should step in. But then Dean storms off to get another bag of junk from his car, and Spencer bites his lip, only glancing at Dean's retreating back before his eyes are back on Urie.

The thing is, Urie's face is ridiculously expressive. He's making all sorts of faces now—he frowns, makes his eyes pop and above all he smiles, wide and happy.

Spencer can't help the grin forming on his lips. Urie's now waggling his eyebrows and it shouldn't be possible to look so hot and sexy and entirely fucking ridiculous all at the same time. Spencer wonders what Valdez's theme for this shoot is.

Dean comes back, basically throwing his bag at Charlotte, and Spencer tenses. He makes a note to himself to tell William to never let him work with Dean again.

This time when Spencer looks at Urie, it's partly so he doesn't hit Dean with one of his stupid pieces of junk.

Urie scrunches up his face, beams brightly and then fucking _winks_ at Spencer. Spencer can't help the blush. He thinks it's ridiculous to think that Urie's been pulling these faces for him. He looks away quickly, but can't keep his eyes away for more than ten seconds.

Urie tilts his head, still smiling, and then he puts on his _I'm a smooth motherfucker_ face. Every model Spencer knows has that face—it comes with the bedroom eyes and full-on smoulder. It's responsible for Spencer hooking up with Gabe because Gabe has these dark, expressive eyes. But where Gabe's version was through and through sex, Urie's is mostly dorky-adorable. Then he grins, and Spencer has to shift slightly because, okay, it's both adorable and stupidly sexy.

And Urie looks right at Spencer. It's enough to make Spencer feel hot and his heart beat faster and Spencer has nowhere to go. So he simply reacts and does the first thing that comes to his mind—he sticks out his tongue, just for a moment. Urie's face lights up even more and he starts to laugh, head thrown back and his entire body shaking with mirth.

It's then that Spencer realises that this really _was_ a show for Spencer because Valdez looks up surprised, both eyebrows raised. Urie points at Spencer and Valdez turns around to look.

Spencer whips his head around so fast he can hear something crack. He rolls his shoulder, trying to get rid of the tension, and pretends that Dean sifting through his things is the most interesting thing ever in the history of mankind.

It lasts barely half a minute. First Spencer thinks Urie's gone away before he notices that Urie's just bent over—although there's no "just" to it. Spencer's had dreams about that ass. It was inevitable, after the live DVD and having his sisters read article after article to Spencer. And the YouTubeing. It happened last month, after their family dinner. Jackie had been trawling YouTube for concert videos, which made entirely no sense.

"You have his live DVD," Spencer had pointed out. "With all his songs. In good quality. Why are you watching this shit?" Jackie had just opened a video that had such bad sound quality, Spencer couldn't even make out which song it was.

"Because of this," Jackie had said, and Spencer looked. Urie had jutted out his hip, swivelled in place, and all of it highlighted perfectly his nice round ass in those stupidly tight pants—the pants he wasn't wearing in the concert on the DVD because Spencer would've noticed.

"See, I always knew you're an ass man," Jackie had said triumphantly, which had led to Spencer declaring war on her and had resulted in a pillow fight until their mother called them into the kitchen to take care of the dishes if they had so much excess energy.

The thing is, after Jackie had cruelly planted that thought in Spencer's mind, Urie's ass had become somewhat more noticeable. It was a very nice ass. And right now Urie's showing it off, in those jeans, sticking it up in the air, and Spencer's glad this isn't a jeans shot. Even so, he's pretty sure that his bulge is very embarrassing.

It takes all his willpower to look away. Thankfully, Dean's finally figured out his lighting issues (Spencer's definitely never going to work with him again, not for love or money) and Spencer's called to do actual work.

Three painful hours later, Spencer's finally free to go home. By that time, Urie and Valdez are long gone—Spencer stole a glance at them when Valdez packed up his gear, wishing he could follow them. Dean made shot after shot, and Spencer's still not entirely sold that they got a nice shot. He thinks they should've just gone into the studio and then photoshopped whatever background they needed. It's what other people do. Fuck Dean and his ode to natural light.

Spencer's grumpy. He glares at William in passing when he leaves. Normally doing these shoots puts Spencer in a good mood, but after standing around in the hot L.A. weather for hours, Spencer just wants to go home and take a shower. He thinks he might have to spend the rest of the weekend drinking heavily and playing Halo. Shooting things is somewhat cathartic.

Spencer puts on his sunglasses the moment he steps out of the building, paying no heed to his surroundings. He's aiming for the parking lot and startles badly when someone next to him speaks up.

"Hi."

Spencer freezes mid-step. He knows that voice. "Don't you have anything more interesting to do than stalk me?" he says, and immediately he wants to take the words back. Sometime during puberty Spencer decided that a good offense was the best defense, and he's never quite managed to lose the habit of shooting first and then checking if it's a friend or foe.

Urie simply laughs. "William wouldn't give Shane your number. For some reason, he didn't believe Shane that he needed you for a particular shoot."

Spencer blinks. "Why would Shane ask for my number?"

"So he could give it to me." Urie tilts his head and smiles at Spencer. "But maybe I should introduce myself first."

"I know who you are," Spencer blurts out.

The smile on Urie's face makes Spencer's knees weak. "My name's Brendon," Urie still says. "And I'd like to invite you for dinner."

Spencer's painfully aware of how gorgeous Urie—Brendon—is. It's impossible to say no, not when he's looking at Spencer like he really wants to get to know him. Spencer's dated models before, he knows how this is going to end: in a lot of heartbreak for him. Still, he should say no. He really should.

Instead he finds himself saying, "Sushi."

Brendon laughs. "It's a deal."

Spencer can't help but grin, too.

"Are you going to tell me your name?" Brendon leans in close. "I could put you down as _gorgeous stranger_ in my phone, but that's a mouthful."

Spencer blushes. He hadn't even noticed that he hadn't introduced himself. "Spencer," he says. "Spencer Smith."

"Pleased to meet you, Spencer Smith." Brendon winks at him.

Then Brendon hands Spencer his phone, already open to the _add new contact_ menu. Spencer stares at it blankly for a moment before putting in his number.

When he hands Brendon his phone back, Brendon smiles, and it seems genuine and happy, the sort of smile that has thousands of girls sighing at his pictures and screaming themselves hoarse in the front row.

"Let's meet at Yamada's around nine o'clock?" Brendon says while pushing a button. Spencer's phone vibrates in his pocket, and Brendon grins at him. "And now you have my number, too," he says.

Spencer blinks and alternates between looking at his phone in his pocket and Brendon. "We won't get a table there without a reservation," he says stupidly, his brain still hung up on the fact that apparently he now has Brendon Urie's number.

Brendon laughs, throwing his head back. "They'll have a table for us," he says. His grin is huge and roguish, and Spencer is glad that they arrived at his car and he has something he can use to prop himself up.

"Okay, then." Spencer fidgets with his keys.

"I'll see you then," Brendon says. He waves at someone and a car pulls up next to them. Brendon gives Spencer one last huge smile and then he's gone.

Spencer's not entirely sure he doesn't have heat stroke and simply imagined all that. By the time he pulls into his own driveway, he's convinced himself that he's hallucinating. Because why in the world would Brendon Urie want to go on a date with _Spencer_? He could have his pick from the most beautiful people in the world, the most talented or smartest ones.

Spencer's a part-time hand model, full-time accountant, and has more snark than he knows what to do with, but he's not exactly the sort of person Brendon Urie's known to go for.  
But then his phone notifies him of a new text as he's unlocking his door. He presses away the _1 missed call_ message and stares at _1 new message from 310-555-0834_.

He's still standing in his front hall when he thumbs it open. The message says, _looking forward to 2nite xxx bden_.

Spencer carefully puts down his keys, his phone and his wallet. "Apparently not a dream, then," he says to himself softly. The "Fuck!" he utters is much louder, because, shit, he has a date with Brendon fucking Urie in three hours and how is this his life?

Of course, then his phone rings. It's William, so it might be work—maybe Dean's complained about Spencer the way he complained about Charlotte all the time, and Spencer's just in the right mood to give William his piece about what an asshole Dean is.

"Hello, sweet darling," William positively croons into his ear, and this is when Spencer knows it was a mistake to pick up. "I saw you talking to our dear Mr Urie in the parking lot."

Definitely a mistake. "Did you?" Spencer says curtly.

"Please tell me you gave him his phone number. Shane was practically begging me. Apparently Brendon has taken quite a shine to you."

Spencer's stomach does a somersault. "That's none of your business," he says, somewhat breathless.

"So you did. He gave Brendon his number!" William yells to someone and Spencer sighs into his phone.

"He was persistent."

"Don't think we didn't see you staring at his ass," William says. "Have fun with him."

Spencer simply hangs up. There's nothing he actually wants to talk to William about, but he does intend to have fun with Brendon. He's not sure how their date will go or what, if anything, will come out of the whole affair, but he's pretty convinced that it'll be fun, at least.


End file.
